Archive: Jul 2012



Candle in the Window of a Houseboat

By Sarah Clarkson

Dark is thick, and I am weary as the frayed last light dying out beyond the trees. The mud and cold stick to my boots and my sigh etches a frozen circle on the air. The river path I Read More ›

The Courage to Put Away Our Cameras

By Russ Ramsey

Oh, to have been present at San Diego’s Glorietta Bay on July 4, 2012.

If I add up all the Fourth of Julys, Friday Nights at baseball stadiums, and New Years celebrations, I bet I’ve seen close to fifty different fireworks displays over the course of my life. I’ve seen them from my seat in the third balcony at Busch Stadium, from the bed of a pickup truck in rural Indiana, and from a community college front lawn in Kansas City. There was even the fortuitous occasion where I was sitting in the window seat of a Delta flight over St. Louis thirty minutes after dark on Independence Day. Dozens of bursts of light dotted the landscape below as far as I could see. I was surprised by how small they looked from 30,000 feet.

Then there was the time I lay on the pavement of the casino parking lot on an Indian Reservation in central Washington where my suburban county’s zoning and safety laws did not apply. The rockets burst in the sky directly overhead, raining down little bits of acrid paper all around us.

But nothing I’ve ever seen could come close to what the people of San Diego witnessed on July 4, 2012. What was supposed to be a twenty-minute display ended up lasting just fifteen seconds as a malfunction in the detonators caused the entire display—hundreds of individual fireworks—to all go off at once.

Here’s the thing. And I promise you this is true. I am not a fireworks enthusiast. I don’t buy them from roadside stands. I don’t angle for the best seat at the fairgrounds. I don’t purchase patriotic t-shirts. But when I think about those thousands who gathered at Glorietta Bay, I get a little jealous. Why? Because those fortunate folks in San Diego witnessed what will likely be the greatest fireworks display of my lifetime. And I wasn’t there. They got to see something no video or picture will ever do justice to. You can’t capture moments like that on film or phone. You just have to be there.

So many things in life fall into this category—events you simply cannot bottle for later—like the birth of a child, the funeral of a loved one, a sunset, the presentation and enjoyment of a great meal, a surprise party, a concert, climbing out of a cold tent in the mountains and restoking the campfire as you watch the sun come up, sifting through the rubble of a flood or a fire, kissing your daughter’s forehead as the nurses wheel her off to surgery, asking your girlfriend to marry you, or watching a thunderstorm roll in.

In our amazing era of digital immediacy, I can tell the world where I am and what I’m doing while I’m doing it. I can present myself as a busy man living a rich and full life. I can take pictures of my meals, log my locations, snap photos of the people I’m with, and weigh in on what’s happening around the globe 140 characters at a time. But none of these things mean I’ve been paying attention.

The degree to which we are able to be present in the moment, psychologists say, is one of the chief indicators of mental health and security in our personal identity. I can buy that. And I would submit that this takes courage—courage to believe an experience itself is of greater value than documenting that it happened.

Every day of my life is filled with moments that cannot be captured—moments more glorious than what took place on that San Diego night. We have to hold these moments with an open hand and pay attention. But it’s hard to pay attention, isn’t it? When it comes to wonder and glory, if we’re honest wouldn’t we have to confess that there comes a point where we run out of the energy needed to remain engaged, where we bounce back and hurry for the latitudes of home comforted by the fact that we took a lot of great pictures?

Take all the pictures you want. They’ll only serve to instruct you in the truth that none of your clips or still images managed to capture what was really happening in the moment. Go ahead. Watch this pretty awesome video of the 2012 San Diego fireworks and you’ll know, as amazing as it is, that you’re not seeing anything close to what those who gathered there in the bay that night actually experienced.

Life is filled with wonder and beauty. Tonight’s sunset is a gift we cannot preserve for tomorrow. But tomorrow, we’ll get a new one. And another the night after that. It’s okay to put away our cameras.

“Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there.”  —Annie Dillard, Total Eclipse

Easier (A Sneak Peek Of A New Song From My Christmas Record)

By Jason Gray

In exactly five months, Christmas will be here, and so I thought today was the perfect excuse to give you a sneak peek of one of the songs from my upcoming Christmas record.

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Song of the Day: Ben Shive

By The Rabbit Room

Brian Wilson’s fingerprints are all over Ben Shive’s The Cymbal Crashing Clouds and perhaps nowhere are Read More ›

When God Laughs

By Sarah Clarkson

Stories always seem to go in circles, especially the real life ones. For a year now, I’ve had a fairly settled season of work and study. But I’ve come round back to the open-ended life, Read More ›

Kingdom Poets: C.S. Lewis

By D. S. Martin

“Jack” Lewis (1898-1963) wanted most of all to be known as a poet. Today we know C.S. Lewis as a great literary scholar, for works such as The Allegory of Love and English Read More ›

Teacheth Us to Prayeth, Mortimer

By Andrew Peterson

When I was a boy my dad consistently called on a wrinkled old sage named Mortimer Hawk to offer the closing prayer at church. He was so old that the congregation’s stillness Read More ›

Lilith

By Lanier Ivester

George Macdonald was the grandfather of us all. ~Madeleine L’Engle

Ten pages into George MacDonald’s Lilith I was thoroughly entranced—there’s nothing like a memory-haunted library and a mysterious visitant and secret doors to get this girl to sit up and take notice.

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The Oxford Chronicles: The Humble Scholar

By Sarah Clarkson

“Please don’t gush,” I was told as I set to write my first paper on the work of C.S. Lewis. I’m sure Oxford has seen many wide-eyed, all-too-vocal Americans awed at the books and Read More ›

A Sudden Joyous Turn

By Andrew Peterson

The Peterson family just started reading The Lord of the Rings aloud this summer and I’ve been nerding out a bit more than usual (which is saying something). I thought I’d re-post this piece from four (four!) years ago.

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Book Review: Real Love for Real Life

By Janna

There’s no doubt about it, my mother has the gift of hospitality. Enter her house nearly any time of day and you’ll be greeted by the warm smell of something delicious being Read More ›